Rebel of Shadows
by Shaylynne
Summary: AU thing. On hiatus.
1. Chapter One

_Did you want to see me broken?_  
><em>Bowed head and lowered eyes.<em>  
><em>Shoulders slumped like teardrops.<em>  
><em>Weakened by my soulful cries.<em>  
>- Mary Angelou<p>

* * *

><p>We kept running and running, our feet making no sound on the gravel.<p>

This was our only shot at freedom – Quentin had blocked every exit in the Elements - the main road was the only path we could take.

Then Catherine skidded into a stop, and I stopped too. So did Austin and Kayla.

"Something's wrong," Catherine whispered, lifting her head to sniff at the cold night air.

A wonderful, sweet smell wafted gently though the breeze, reminding me of being comfortable and loved and relaxed.

Sheer terror gripped at me - I opened my mouth to shout out an order but my lips didn't seem to be responding as though glued together by some unknown substance - and then Austin was screaming but he never screamed - I saw a dagger pierce his thigh but there was no time to mourn now as the Rebels were coming -

In the next second Catherine got wrestled to the floor by a tall dark figure and Kayla was unconscious on the ground with a tranquilizer dart impaled in her leg.

_They'll never take me alive,_ I thought dazedly.

"Laurel!" Catherine suddenly shrieked, her limbs flailing. "Th -"

Her voice was cut off abruptly when a gloved hand slammed over her mouth, and I didn't even get the chance to be furious when Quentin bowled me over.

"Saved the best for last," he hissed with a malicious smirk on his face, pinning me onto the ground.

"Good to know," I spat back reflexively, and reached up to scratch at his face.

But I couldn't. Pure fear snatched at me, howling like the wind and tearing at my clothes.

Quentin swiped my hand aside and we wrestled on the ground like fighting she-cats. In the corner of my eye, I saw Catherine and Kayla being pulled away and into the white building hidden by the trees; Catherine was still struggling furiously, her muffled cries echoing around the clearing until her shoulders sagged and the brown haired girl collapsed onto the ground.

She'd given up, I realized - not dead, not injured, not unconscious by a stabilizer - but given up. The Rebel that had attacked her - I think it was Steven - knelt down and whispered something to Catherine - and she nodded numbly. Steven stared at the petite girl for a moment, then pulled Catherine to her feet and locked her arms behind her back with his own, pushing her towards to the white building.

I, to put it plainly, was _furious_.

Quentin had noticed where my eyes strayed to, and then he leaned close to me and said smugly, "Why don't you just give up?"

I let out a scream of rage and raised a hand to slap him, but Quentin swatted it away.

"Do you know what's going on between her and Steven?" Quentin asked, cruel amusement glittering in his eyes. "Because I don't."

"Don't you dare suggest anything like that about my leader!" I snarled, aiming a kick to his stomach. Quentin dodged it, and then he pulled out a needle.

Oh my God. Oh my God. No. _No_.

Frantically, I tried to twist away, all coherent thought scattered by the screaming panic burning through my brain.

We wrestled silently for another moment, me being the prey and Quentin being the hunter - then he caught hold of my wrist, and Quentin's amber gaze met my haunted blue eyes.

He was holding the needle to my arm, nearly piercing through the skin. Both of us were breathing hard, and I was sure that Quentin's heart was beating just as fast as mine.

"Do it," I told him. "I dare you." I slipped my other hand into my back pocket. "Do it." My fingers found the minuscule object. "I don't care anymore."  
>Then I brought out the tiny pill.<p>

"It's a win-win situation," I continued, lifting it to my mouth.

Quentin hesitated. Then he leaped for the little object in my hand, and I lunged for his stabilizer.

Neither of us got what we wanted; my fist fastened around the pill and held it high out of Quentin's reach; the blonde haired boy pulled the stabilizer behind his back.

"Looks like you value my life, Moore," I sneered. "Who are you working for?"

His golden irises showed venomous hatred, all concentrated in obsidian black pupils.

"I'm not working for anybody, Laurel," Quentin said calmly, and I knew that was the truth as his loathing eyes shattered the sweet innocence of his angelic tone. Then he pitched his voice low, curling a hand around my wrist and pulling me closer, so close that his lips were almost touching my ear. "I'm going to torture you and make you beg for mercy. I'll crush your bones and cut out your tongue. I'll shatter you and make you wish you were never born." Then Quentin's tone dropped even lower, and he added underneath his breath, "And then I'll kill you."

He was holding the stabilizer to my arm again, and this time I knew he would not hesitate.


	2. Chapter Two

_"¿Como de llamas?" __Steven__ questioned._

_"__Catherine__," the brown haired __girl __answered._

_"¿Cuantos años tienes?"_

_"Yo tengo trece años," __Catherine__ looked away._

_"Aren't you much too young to be an experiment?"_

_"Aren't _you_ much too young to be working for illegal science labs?"_

* * *

><p>Catherine stared at the familiar glass walls. Wondering when Kayla was going to return - and wondering what she was going to do if Kayla wasn't.<p>

Though the Elements' tranquilizer dart wasn't fatal when stabbed on the leg ... last time Laurel checked, of course.

But now Quentin was talking with Laurel. And Catherine didn't think Laurel was coming back.

Then the pounding of footsteps sounded across the white, white floor. Catherine looked up, her brown locks cascading down her shoulders.

It was Quentin, and he was holding Kayla's broken form in his arms.

"I tried, Catherine." Steven's voice shattered the still silence, echoing around the room. "I really tried."

_So dark._

_I can't see._

_…_

_So dark. And cold._

_I'm touching air – the air is cold –_

_My hands… I can't feel my hands…_

_Something is pulling at my cheek._

_My cheek is stinging._

_I feel pain._

_Ow, ow, ow._

_Pain all over my body._

_So cold._

_So numb._

_I taste metal._

_Am I bleeding?_

_Pain again._

Darkness swirled around the girl, snatching at her clothes at tearing them apart. Laurel was suspended midair by that moving bed of darkness – and they were diving in and out of her skin, and as they twisted out they took her life blood with them.

Quentin Moore was watching this with a horrible satisfaction.

Only a child of Athena could have the knowledge to create such a terrible _thing_; and Quentin Moore was one.

He reached out – and a thread of darkness slithered away from the writhing mass of everything terrible and curled lovingly on Quentin's wrist.

The black strings seemed to be taking sexual pleasure from taking Laurel's blood, Quentin noticed, as they wrapped around her mouth and smothered her body – but that didn't matter, as long as they sapped away the entire godly DNA in her veins – the more they took the stronger the threads would get.

Soon they were just playing with the girl's body – and soon Laurel awoke. Quentin adopted a an expression of placid interest as Laurel opened her mouth to scream but before she did so a ball of darkness wiggled into her jaw and her tormenter smiled as he watched a thread slice sharply at her tongue.

Mercy was always a captor's best weapon. Quentin opened his palm, and the strings slithered towards him almost sulkily. The small brunette before him collapsed onto the ground, gasping and spitting out blood – Quentin was smiling as he strolled towards her and crouched down, closing his hand into a fist.

"Do tell me, Laurel," the boy said, "What is the name of your base?"

Laurel's eyes were streaming tears, but still the girl persevered, saying, "You'll never know if I didn't tell you."

Dark ropes started leaking out of Quentin's palm.

"No!" Laurel screwed her eyes shut. "No, wait!"

"Go on," Quentin said calmly, blackness swirling around the girl, ready to strike.

Laurel swallowed. "The Shadow Quarters. Located at Central Park, Manhattan. Catherine's the leader of the organization – her real name is Katherine; she's a daughter of Hades."

Quentin's eyebrows shot up. He really hadn't been expecting that. "Hmm. And who's the lieutenant?"

Laurel coughed out a little more blood, stalling.

Dark strings wrapped around her wrist and dragged the blonde closer towards Quentin. He grabbed Laurel's shirt and snarled, "Who's the lieutenant?"

"Screw you."

Laurel shrieked as darkness slithered up her shirt and began ripping at her flesh.

"More information, you useless piece of shit," Quentin hissed, slamming her onto the ground.

"No!" Laurel shoved him away.

But it was too late. Black ropes cocooned around the daughter of Hermes and suddenly it was streaming into her nose and her ears and she couldn't breathe as they started tearing her up from the insides and Laurel could feel the threads curling up contently in the middle of her stomach –

"You can become fodder for the darkness," Quentin tilted Laurel's chin upwards, and saw the sticky, whip-like strings thread her lips together. "Or maybe you can tell me who's the lieutenant," he whispered, curling a cold finger around a lock of Laurel's brown hair.

Laurel shook her head, tears streaming down her face. She was screaming – and yet she was not making a sound at all as the black ropes gagged her.

Quentin ripped a knife from his belt and pulled Laurel onto his lap, holding her wrist tightly. "Watch," he said, leaning over her and slashing down.

Black blood dripped out – Laurel's blood was no longer red anymore, and as every droplet met the air it turned into a small cloud of writhing darkness and attached back to her skin, slicing lines and turning into suction cups, drinking in her tainted blood.

"I'll tell you," Laurel suddenly screamed, shuddering. "Just make it stop – please make it stop."

The darkness withdrew back into Quentin's palm, but Laurel's wounds kept dripping black.

"Once tainted, always tainted, daughter of Hermes," Quentin said, smiling sadistically. "But please, talk."

Laurel took a deep breath.

"Me. I'm the lieutenant."

Pleasant surprise spread over Quentin's face.

"Then I've got everything I have here." Quentin pulled a walkie-talkie out and spoke into it.

"Kill Austin and Kayla."

They weren't _dead_ yet?

"No!" Laurel shrieked. "Let them go! It's me you want!"

"It's you we need," Quentin corrected her, "And it's them we want dead."

Then he offered the girl a jar filled with small, white pills.

"If you want to control the darkness in your blood, take this once a day." Quentin's pleasant smile came back. "It's your gift for my knowledge."

Then he left, and Laurel wondered how Quentin Moore was going to react when he found out that she'd been lying.


End file.
